


Looking through the window at an alien sky

by raven_lore



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_lore/pseuds/raven_lore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bates returns home…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking through the window at an alien sky

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Nothing after the beginning of season 2
> 
> Thanks to _bettina for her help and for loving Bates. ;)

He lies on the bed, not moving. He's given up tossing and turning hours ago, nights ago. With a wry smile he admits to himself that he's let another sleepless night have the best of him.

It's not the pain. He wishes he could blame it on the pain, but he's never been good at deceiving himself. It's loss that keeps his eyes open, fixed on the concrete walls and ceiling of the infirmary. It's what he misses, even though how that can be is beyond his understanding. How can he miss a place that almost killed him? And still…

He tries to think of the Wraith and yes, those _things_ still scare the shit out of him. The hopelessness he had felt just before everything went black… He's going to have nightmares for a long time about that. And still…

He thinks of the city that has seen the deaths of a few close friends and introduced him to horrors that he had believed impossible before. To the place that he doesn't understand, because he's not a scientist and there even them seem at a loss most days. For God's sake, he doesn't even have the gene. And still…

He sees the Gateroom, the conference room, the balconies, the sights, the people… Doctor Weir, sitting at her desk, absorbed in her work. Colonel Sheppard, damn, he's grown to respect the man, but Lieutenant Colonel? That's kind of hard to picture. Ford. They're still looking for him. Teyla Emmagan, he's pretty sure he shouldn't miss her. And still…

The door opens.

"Good morning, Sergeant. How are we feeling today?"

Every morning the same question. Different nurses. Different words sometime. Different answers flashing through his mind. But always the same meaning. And always the same answer.

"Ready to go home." If nothing else, it's true enough.

***

He comes up with the elevator, big square numbers passing by. He gets a ride into town and suddenly he finds himself surrounded. All these people, blissfully unaware and not afraid. Their sheer number makes him edgy and he spends the next week getting used to it… and to his leave. In the Ancient city there had not been leaves or off-duty days. Not really. He has to remind himself to relax, to learn how to do it, as if it's not a natural thing.

Days go by as he stays in a good hotel, reading newspapers, watching TV, getting reacquainted with the world and what has happened. He buys every food that he had missed. He tries to get back into shape. He tries to enjoy himself. But at the end of the day most of his meals can be found among the trash, and the dark circles under his eyes keep mocking him every time he looks in a mirror.

He has a window now. He can stare up at the sky as he lies on the hotel bed while the hours go by. As a kid he had never watched the sky, never found the stars fascinating. He had grown to be a man with his head on his shoulders and his feet firmly set on the ground.

Then suddenly he'd found himself watching the sky every night, sometime in fear, sometime looking for answers. Sometime he'd listened to Ford secretly naming new constellations, sometime naming a star or two himself, if only in his own head.

He looks at the stars now and he can't help but think that they're all wrong.

***

As he steps out of the terminal he sees his brother and his family walk towards him. They embrace him and he hugs them back, maybe holding them close a little longer than he used to do. And when his brother asks him if he wants to stay in his room, because even though the basement is comfortable, there are no windows down there, he answers "Thanks, but no thanks," and hopes that no one will notice the way his grip on his bag has tightened.


End file.
